


Llamas and Jail Cells and Shagging, Oh My!

by leftennant



Series: Let's Make this Last Forever 'Verse [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Light BDSM, Smuff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bossy alien llamas, aphrodisiac grapes, and Rose in a schoolgirl uniform.  I know what you are thinking...this can only end in smut.  And you are totally right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose peered out of the TARDIS doors. “Doctor, I don’t think this is San Francisco.”

“Of course it is. You saw me program in the coordinates,” he said from the other side of the console.

“No, really. I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

The Doctor walked over so he could look out too. “What are you talking about? I’m telling you, we’re in…” He stopped, sniffed, wiped his spectacles on his suit jacket and put them back on. “…not San Francisco.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. Where are we?” She watched as a llama-ish creature walked by on two legs carrying a stoneware pitcher. “Is that…a llama? Oh my God! Did you land us on Planet of the Llamas? You did, didn’t you? You aimed for Haight Ashbury and landed in Llama Lland!” Rose had to hold onto the door, she was laughing so hard.

He gave her a withering glance. “It’s not called Llama Lland, this is Machu Picchu…the planet, not the city. And those aren’t Llamas…well…not exactly anyway. They’re very loosely related to what you might think of as a llama, but they’re highly evolved…and…Rose? Rose!”

Rose was busy wandering off. Oh for Rassilon’s Sake, could he just once have a companion who didn’t wander off? All of them. All the time. Wandering. Off. He always said, “Don’t wander off.” And what did they immediately do? WANDER OFF! He ought to invest in a few of those backpack leashes like you see people put on their toddlers. The money it would save in bail alone… Aaaand now she’d disappeared completely. Fantastic.

He stepped out of the ship and started moving through the throng of Not-Exactly-Llamas in search of Rose. Five minutes later, he was still searching fruitlessly. Trying to establish a mental link was out, because as he recalled, Machu Picchuans were very suspicious of any type of telepathic activity and had planetary wide bio-dampeners preventing the use of telepathy. It was a very lucky thing then that he happened to have a copy of Rose’s DNA coded into his sonic screwdriver. He’d just use it to locate her. 

He whipped the sonic out of his pocket and brandished it in the air, but it just whirred for a second and then conked out. “Noooo, no no. Oh, c’mon!” he said, slapping it against his palm a few times and then holding it up again.

This time, instead of the usual buzz, it emitted a high pitch squeal that echoed across the square at ear-splitting decibels. All the llamas clapped their front hooves over their ears in agony. Some of them fell over completely. Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. This could not get any worse.

It was then that he remembered it is incredibly inadvisable to think things couldn’t get any worse. The very moment you thought that, things invariably _did_ get worse. In this case, the getting worse was fairly spectacular. Within moments of shutting off the sonic, he was approached by what amounted to the entire Machu Picchuan police force, one bossy Not-Exactly-A-Llama wearing an impressive Stetson. 

“Sir, I must insist you come with me.”

The Doctor turned on the charm. “Oh, hello, I’m the Doctor. You may have heard of me. Saving the universe? Time after time? When you’re lost you can look and you will find me. No…wait…that’s Cyndi Lauper.”

The llama narrowed his large, adorable eyes into slits, and his ears twitched around the Stetson. “Never heard of you or this Ms. Lauper person. Now, if you would come along quietly please…” 

“Listen, I’m certain this can all be cleared up with just a little explanation," the Doctor said, making another valiant attempt to avoid arrest, "You see, my friend wandered off and…”

“Sir, it doesn't matter to me whether you lost your friend or not. Surely that is through your own carelessness and no fault of mine. Now, I’m going to ask you again to come along. If you don’t, I shall be forced to spit.”

“Now see here…” the Doctor began again in irritation.

At this point, Detective Inspector Llama pulled his head back and pursed his…well…they weren’t quite lips, but you get the idea. He pursed the area which would have been lips had he not had a snoutish situation going on. The Doctor thought about spit on his suit. Then he thought about spit in his hair. He decided it was in the best interest of his follicles that he obey. 

“Fine. I’ll come quietly.” With a frustrated sigh, he followed his captor through the square to a low stone building on the other side. Once inside he was processed. A very embarrassing series of mug shots were taken, and he was ushered into a small utilitarian cell to await bailing out by Rose.

Two hours passed. No Rose. He paced and paced and tinkered with the sonic, which still wasn’t working. No Rose. He sang the entire She’s So Unusual album. Still. No. Rose. Finally, after three hours, twenty-four minutes, and seven seconds he heard Rose’s belligerent voice wafting down the corridor.

“Listen you overgrown alpaca, for the last time, I am _not_ Cyndi Lauper! I’m ROSE TYLER. That’s T-Y-L-E-R, Tyler, of the Powell Estates, Earth. Oi! Get your hooves off me! Stoppit! I’m not signin’ that! Absolutely not! Oh no you don’t. Spit on me and I’ll slap you so hard your Stetson will end up in the next solar system!”

Rapidly approaching footsteps thundered down the hall and Rose appeared, followed cautiously by the rather terrified looking llama police officer. She waited impatiently while he fished a large key-ring from the pocket of his uniform and unlocked the Doctor’s cell. Once open, Rose stepped into the cell with her hand on her hip.

“I’ve come to get you out. This…whatever it is…said that as long as we leave immediately and never come back, you can go without paying the bail.” As she was saying this, the door clanged shut loudly behind her. “Hey! What are you doing? You said we could _leave_!”

“I lied,” replied the llama.

Rose sputtered. The Doctor shrugged. The llama started to whistle and play catch with his keys in a maddeningly cocky manner. 

“Well, that’s just…I’ve done _nothing wrong_!” Rose protested angrily, “You let us out this instant!”

“I shall not. It’s for the safety of our citizens that you both remain detained for at least…” He lifted a hoof and checked his wristwatch. “…five more hours. Then you can go.” 

“Great. Five hours. In a cell…” She paused as the llama dragged a chair up to the wall opposite and sat down. “…with a talking llama staring at me. Ugh. I can’t believe you got us into this.” Rose slid down the wall and sat on the floor, hauling her backpack around in front of her and pulling out a paper sack.

His jaw dropped. “ _Me_? You were off _shopping_ while I was being arrested by this….incredibly…” He gestured wildly at their jailer searching for the right word. “...officious…” Yep, that was it. “…Not-Exactly-A-Llama!”

"He must have been very officious. Since you could have just NOT gone with him. Did you even think of that? I mean, s’not like he carries a weapon, yeah? He doesn’t even have _fingers_!"

“Of course I thought of that. But…”

“But what?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“He threated to spit on me,” the Doctor whined, throwing his hands in the air, “Spit, Rose. On my suit. In. My. Hair. Have you ever smelled llama spit? I don’t even think the sonic could get it out.”

Rose rolled her eyes. The llama watched the exchange with great interest. Arresting these two was most fun he’d had in months. They were better than telly.

“Besides,” he continued, “this only happened because I couldn’t find you.”

“Who decided to decimate an entire town square with their sonic? Hm?”

“That was an accident,” he retorted petulantly.

“I’m sure. Well…” she said, looking around the tiny room, “there’s no help for it. We’ll just have to wait it out. Not as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a cell. Knowing you, it won’t be the last either.”

“Oi!”

“Oi, yourself. Three out of our last four arrests were your fault.” She began ticking off on her fingers. “Adipose 2 – you brought up Richard Simmons, On Blini-Gaar _you_ suggested they were watching too much television and needed to get out more, and finally, there was that Bit-O-Honey incident on Melissa Majoria.”

“I wasn’t the one who set a water glass down on that man’s head on Divanicus.”

“For the last time, that wasn’t my fault. He looked just like an end table. You could have warned me that most of the furniture was sentient!” They both fell silent. Rose rustled around in the paper sack for a moment and then looked up apologetically. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue. We should both make the best of it, yeah? Here….want a grape?”

He looked at the grapes in her hand and then back at Rose. Oh. Oh no. “Rose, you haven’t…eaten…any of those, have you?”

“’Course I have. Why?” She popped one in her mouth. “They’re gorgeous. Really. Have one.” She held the bunch out to him again. 

“How many, exactly, have you had?”

Rose looked startled, “I don’t know…maybe six? Seven? It was before I came to find you. Why? Are they poison? Oh my GOD, what’s wrong with them???” She glanced down at the grapes in her hand as if she expected them to attack her.

This was problematic, to say the least. She'd eaten seven of those things, and any minute now they were going to begin working. Oh, _this_ was going to teach him never to think things couldn’t get worse. Right now he was about to deal with the worst worse possible. In front of a llama wearing a _hat_ no less. He dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

“No, not poison. You’ll be fine. Only…how do you feel?” he asked.

“Whaddaya mean? How should I feel? Doctor, what’s wrong with the grapes? Tell me.”

“Weeeeell, they might have some mild aphrodisiac properties, and when I say _mild_ what I mean is…erm… _notverymildatall_ ,” he said the last in a long rushed exhalation of breath.

“WHAT?” Rose squeaked in horror.

“You know, aphrodisiacs? They lower inhibitions, increase the libido, send blood rushing all over to…Rose? Rose, you are getting very pink. I think that maybe… Why are you getting up?”

Rose slowly got her feet, eyes zeroed in his face and started crossing the room towards him. She didn’t have far to go. About three steps total and she’d gotten within rather dangerous proximity. 

“D’you know what I think?” she asked, running a manicured finger up the front of his oxford.

“Um, no, I don’t…and really, I think it would best if you just held that thought. Yes, just hold onto it and I’ll …guh!” He gasped as she slid both hands under his suit jacket so she could pull him to her by the waistband of his trousers. The sudden contact made certain parts of him under the trousers perk up in interest. He fought to un-perk them.

“I think you should stop talking. In fact, I think you talk entirely too much. Oooh look, a bed.” She leaned around him and took in the size of the cot attached to the wall. “Small, but convenient, dontcha think?”

“Rose, there’s a llama. A llama wearing a police officer’s uniform and a _STETSON_ staring at us.”

“Pretend he’s a housecat,” she purred.

He suddenly had an image of the llama wearing a wimple. It was horrible. “That’s not really helping.”

She palmed the area where things were continuing to perk despite his best efforts. “So you say.”

“You’re not thinking straight.” He desperately tried to untangle her fingers from his trousers but she’d somehow turned into an octopus. A very warm, desirable, red-lipped octopus with heaving breasts and…bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger! Bloody stupid llamas with their bloody powerful sex-fruit and officious police force of one! How was he going to get out of this? A cool blast of air hit him and he realized Rose had managed to unbutton his shirt while he was distracted, and was busily trying to divest him of his jacket. He had to admire her persistence.

“You…” she said, starting to kiss her way down his chest, “…should get on the bed, because I…” Kisses moving back up now. “…am about to make you _scream_ , Doctor.”

“Rose,” he tried again, “you’re not yourself. If you would just listen to me…”

She gave him a push and he tumbled back on the cot. With a lusty little triumphant smile, she dove on top of him and slipped her tongue into his open mouth. He thought it only polite to snog her back, so he did. Then she began tugging down his zip, and he found himself with a wriggling armful of Rose Tyler as he desperately tried to keep his remaining clothes. 

“Ok, stop that. You really shouldn’t…” His jaw abruptly clicked shut as she slid her hand straight into his pants. “Oh…that’s…that’s not fair. Very, very nice, but really, completely unfair. If you would just wait until we get back to the TARDIS, I’d be more than happy to pursue your current train of thought. I’m really all for it. As long as it is not in front. Of. A. _LLAMA_!”

Rose’s head popped up from where she’d been biting his neck. With the light of divine inspiration in her eyes she said, “You’re right. We should definitely do that. We’ll go to the TARDIS and then you could put on that schoolmaster uniform I found in the wardrobe room the other day and THEN, you could discipline me, Professor Smith.”

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Professor who??? You want me to what???”

“Not Professor Who, Professor _Smith_. I’ve been a very naughty girl. You'll probably need to spank me. Repeatedly.” She turned suddenly and addressed the llama. “You! Alpaca thingy! We need to leave. I’ve got important stuff to do. Now! Chop, chop!”

“Can’t help you. I said five hours and I meant it,” the llama replied, “By all means though, continue. I’m merely a housecat, remember?”

Rose snorted in annoyance. “Fine. But later we’re using the headmaster kit.”

“Not fine. I’m still not shagging you in front of _him_ ,” the Doctor said, grabbing both her wrists and pinning them to her chest.

She glared at him furiously and he realized there was nothing for it. He really hated to do this, but it was for her own good. The Doctor let go of her hands and pressed his fingers against her temples.

“Rose Tyler,” he said as she slumped into his arms fast asleep, “I am so, so sorry.”

He carefully laid her down on the cot and then arranged her head so it was cradled in his lap. The rest of the five hours passed uneventfully, and he carried Rose back to the TARDIS after signing a paper which said they would never, ever, ever visit Machu Picchu again. 

Once he had her safely settled in bed, the Doctor made a surreptitious trip to the wardrobe room, and had a brief but satisfactory conversation with the TARDIS. He had a plan and it was top banana. Now he just had to sit back and wait for Rose to wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours later Rose woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in forever. Her memory of the morning was a bit hazy though, and she found that more than a little disconcerting. She remembered the sonic incident on Machu Picchu, and their subsequent arrest, but not much more than that. Speaking of Machu Picchu, she was still in the same filthy clothes from their stint in jail. After debating a moment, she stepped into the en suite for a shower before getting changed. 

The hot water washed away all the grit from the prison cell, but did nothing to restore her memories. She vaguely recalled eating _something_ but had no idea what. After she got dressed, she would have to hunt the Doctor down and find out what happened.

Rose wandered back into their room wearing a towel, and threw the wardrobe door open to find all her clothes were missing. In their place hung row after row of schoolgirl uniforms next to his bespoke pinstripe suits. Each one had an emblem written on it in what looked like Gallifreyan script. 

She gaped at them a moment and then started yanking open her drawers. All her usual t-shirts had been replaced with neatly pressed oxfords. Another drawer revealed a dozen or so pairs of knee high socks. Even her knickers and bras had been confiscated and in their place were pristine, white lace sets. It was as if someone had phoned Agent Provocateur asked, “What have you got under innocent? A million tiny white frilly bits of fabric? Perfect, I’ll have them all, please.” 

Further searching turned up a shining row of high-heeled Mary Janes where her trainers usually sat. Even the clothes she’d just taken off to shower had disappeared...along with the towel she’d dropped when she walked into the wardrobe. This was just…insane. Where could they possibly be going that she’d need to wear a school uniform? Well there was nothing for it. She’d either have to put one on or walk around the TARDIS starkers. 

After throwing several choices down on the bed, she finally decided on a red tartan skirt, crisp white oxford, and navy-blue blazer. It took an inordinate amount of time to fix the fiddly little tie thing around her neck and she nearly threw it out in disgust twice before she got it right. There had better be some purpose to all this, because if it were just some prank being played by the Doctor, so help her, she was going to put Nair in his shampoo bottle.

Still shaking her head in annoyance, she buckled up the shoes and opened the door to the hallway. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. The entrances to the kitchen, the pool, and the console room were all missing, and now there was just one door about twenty feet away at the end of the corridor. Ok, this was getting completely weird. She crossed the hall and turned the latch still utterly bemused. 

The door swung open with a loud creak and Rose got that feeling like you do in dreams when you show up to class naked. Except she wasn’t naked, but this was unquestionably a class, and possibly the poshest one she’d ever seen too. It was like walking into a classroom at Hogwarts or something. The walls were grey stone and there were massive wooden tables situated on descending levels that all faced a central desk at the front of the room. 

Yeah, she had to be dreaming, because each table had two girls seated at it, wearing the exact same uniform she was. They all had their heads bent over their work and the sound of pencils scratching filled the room. There was no way the Doctor would allow all these people on the TARDIS…unless…had he rescued a bunch of schoolgirls while she was sleeping? But then…why did _she_ have a uniform? 

She was still trying to sort through what the hell was going on exactly, when she saw movement from the front of the room. Once she’d focused on the figure behind the desk, her legs went wobbly under her. It was the _Doctor_ dressed like one of the Proctors from Cambridge. 

Recollections of the events from earlier that day started to swirl through her mind. They were all aphrodisiac grapes, and llamas in Stetsons, and almost shagging the Doctor while in a jail cell. Well, that wasn’t exactly unusual. They were always being thrown in jail and yes...ok, they'd shagged in jail once or twice. The thing is...it gets _really_ boring when you're waiting to be released. So if she'd been not exactly in her right mind…had she possibly let it slip that she had a thing for schoolmaster robes? Rose sifted through the fluttering memories until she found the one she wanted. She _had_ told him. And…and…oh my God, she’d asked him to spank her! Well that was mortifying. So then this…what was this? Some sort of fantasy play-acting? Were these girls even real?

Rose tentatively reached out to the girl nearest her and tried to touch her shoulder. Her fingers slipped right through, disappeared, and popped out on the other side. Right. Holograms. She was in a classroom of holograms with the Doctor sitting in as professor. So…that would mean…wait. Wait, wait wait. Rose started to grin. He was absolutely fantasy play-acting. _Oh, Doctor_! This was going to be BRILLIANT! She took a deep breath and then cleared her throat.

“Miss Tyler,” he said without even looking up, “tardy yet again. Three demerits. Now please take your seat.”

Rose scanned the room. It looked like all the tables were full. Where was she supposed to sit? 

“Really, Miss Tyler, I understand deciphering a clock is beyond your capabilities, but surely you can remember where your seat is located,” he snapped sardonically. “No? Miss Waterfield, please help Miss Tyler find her seat. She seems to have misplaced it.”

The other girls tittered as a small brunette in the middle of the room popped up and led Rose down to a table front and center. Rose slid into her chair and noticed a blank piece of paper in front of her. Words suddenly scrawled across the top.

_This ok, Rose?_

She looked up quickly to see the Doctor, no… _Professor Smith_ …regarding her over his spectacles, and gave him short nod. He steepled his fingers in front of his lips and nodded back, sultry smile briefly appearing before his face became impassive again. Rose looked back at the paper.

_Good. Our safe-word is llama. Get ready, Rose Tyler._

***

This was nothing like any class Rose had ever been to before. Firstly, none of the questions had to do with algebra, Chaucer, or economic growth in Hong Kong. Secondly, the dead sexy Professor Smith kept sending her naughty notes on her sheet of psychic paper every few minutes. The current one was her favorite so far.

_Do you have any idea what the sight of you in an oxford and tie is doing to me? I want to lick my way up your body. Twice._

Rose shivered every time she looked at it. She suddenly loved school. She might even see about getting her A Levels. So far she was even doing pretty well with the academic portion of things. They’d been discussing lycanthropy and the Royal Family, and what Rose didn’t know about Lupine Wavelength Haemovariforms could fit on a tic tac with room for footnotes. Conduct was a whole other story. She just could not seem to behave. What could possibly have come over her? 

“Miss Tyler!” His pointer came crashing down across her desk. “Are you copying Miss Jovanka’s answers?”

“No, Sir. I was just stretching, Sir.” Rose blinked up at him innocently.

“In the future, should you feel the urge to stretch, please find a direction which is not directly above your classmate’s work.” 

“Yes, sir,” she replied. He returned to his desk. The paper immediately flashed with a message.

_I hardly think that skirt is regulation length, Rose. In fact, I’m certain that if you move your left leg over half an inch, I’d be able to see your knickers._

Rose adjusted her leg.

_See? I was right. That’s a blatant disregard for school policy. You are setting a terrible example for the other girls. How am I possibly going to keep order with your anarchistic clothing choices?_

Rose slid her leg further over.

_Is this going to become a disciplinary matter?_

“I certainly hope so,” she muttered under her breath, “or you will have just wasted forty-seven minutes of my time droning on about Queen Victoria and werewolves.”

_I can hear you, you know, and I assure you, there will be repercussions for your behavior. Also, I’m still looking up your skirt…with rather spectacular results, if I do say so myself._

“Good thing your desk is so big then, yeah?”

He glanced up sharply. “Did you say something Miss Tyler?”

“Me, Sir? No, Sir. I didn’t say anything…Sir.”

_You know what else this desk would be good for? Bending you over it. Which I intend to do. Soon._

Rose started rocking her right knee back and forth under the table while pretending to take notes from the blackboard.

_In ten minutes, I’m going to rip those knickers off you. Just. You. Wait._

“Miss Tyler, approach the board,” he ordered. 

She stumbled slightly on her way there while craning her neck to re-read that last note.

“I had no idea the journey from your seat to the blackboard was so fraught with peril," he said derisively. "Will you be requiring a Sherpa perhaps?" 

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

"If you've sufficiently recovered, please pick up the chalk and spell Raxacoricofallapatorius.”

Rose froze. No. No, he was not doing this to her. Not this word. She closed her eyes and thought furiously.

“Are we boring you, Miss Tyler? It appears you’ve stopped to take a nap. Shall I summon a cot?” 

Girls began giggling all over the room. Rose could feel the blood rising into her cheeks despite the fact that she knew they weren’t real. Ok, she could do this. She just had to focus. 

“In your own time, Miss Tyler, but please try to remember this is only a sixty minute class.”

She was going to kill him. Really. This was supposed to be _fun_. He wanted the stupid word, FINE. She’d spell it and then rip those robes off of him and fuck him senseless in front of his precious Stepford Brats. It was no less than he deserved and… Rose was mid-rant when she caught his eye. The superior look he’d had moments before was gone and in its place was concern. 

“Llama?” he mouthed questioningly.

She shook her head. “Little help, maybe?” she mouthed back.

He thought for a moment and then resumed the punishing headmaster persona. “Clearly, Miss Tyler, vocabulary is not your strong point. Do you require assistance?” 

“Yes, thank you, Sir,” Rose said and he immediately rose from his desk and stood behind her. 

He wrapped the long fingers of one hand around hers on the chalk and pressed her hips firmly back against him with the other as he completed the word in his bold, forceful script. Rose could feel his rock hard length digging into her with each motion of their bodies, and by the end of the word she was practically writhing. He slid the hand on her hip further down until he could cup her through her skirt, and Rose arched back into him.

Just then the bell rang. The sound of slamming books and chattering girls echoed all over the room. The Doctor sighed in relief.

“Holy TARDIS of Gallifrey, I thought that was never going to end. Remind me next time to make the class thirty minutes,” he whispered in her ear then he turned back to the dwindling class. “Right. For Monday read chapter…oh, what does it matter…none of you are real anyway. Do whatever holograms do when the program ends. Enjoy drifting through circuitry. Class dismissed! Except for you, Miss Tyler. It’s quite obvious from your less than satisfactory performance that you require extra tutelage. Fortunately for you, I’ve decided to set aside some of my valuable time just to assist in your academic endeavors. We will also need to address the matter of your inappropriate and frankly appalling behavior. It appears that my more lenient methods of correction have proven to be inadequate. I fear I shall be forced to resort to..stricter...measures.” 

Rose couldn’t agree more. Let the tutoring begin!


	3. Chapter 3

Tutoring, Rose thought as the Doctor brought a small wooden platform out from cupboard next to the blackboard, might be her favorite educational endeavor of all time. They were going to have their own little private spelling bee. The rules were simple, really. She would say the word, spell it, and then say it again. For any word she spelled correctly, there would be a reward. Mistakes, however, would result in punishment, to be administered at his discretion. Rose thought the whole thing was bloody brilliant.

The Doctor set the platform down and helped Rose step onto it, then stood in front of her with his hands behind his back.

“Miss Tyler, are you ready for your first word?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Spell Krillitane.” He began walking around behind her as she started spelling the word.

“Krillitane, K-R-I-L-L-I…” Rose gasped as his hands slipped around to the front of her blazer and started undoing the buttons.

“Continue, Miss Tyler,” he commanded in a low voice, fingers paused on the buttonhole.

Rose struggled for a second to recall what letter she was on, and then with a flood of relief, she remembered. “…T-A-N-E, Krillitane.” 

He had her blazer undone now, and his fingers had drifted up to her shoulders. “Nestene Consciousness.”

“Nestene Consciousness,” she said, as he began to slip the jacket down her arms. “First word, N-E-S-T-E-N-E. Second word, C-O-N-S-C-I-O-U-S-N-E-S-S. Nestene Consciousness.” 

“Very good, Miss Tyler,” he said as he flicked the bottom button of her oxford open. “Your next word is Sycorax.” 

“S-Y-C…”

“No.” The fingers stopped with her shirt halfway unbuttoned. 

Rose realized she’d forgotten to say Sycorax before she started spelling it. Frankly, with what he was doing, it was no surprise. Before she could say anything, she felt him lift her skirt in the back and gently skim the curve of her bum with his fingers before delivering a light, stinging slap. It wasn’t hard by any means, but it reverberated through her whole body just the same. The second time he did it Rose bit back a moan. Ok, yes, she definitely liked this. Maybe she should misspell a few words on purpose... Maybe.

He dropped her skirt and stepped back. “Again, please.”

Rose took a deep, steadying breath. “Sycorax,” her voice rang out through the room, and his fingers returned to her blouse, “S-Y-C-O-R-A-X, Sycorax.”

“Look at that, Miss Tyler," he said, lifting each of her wrists in turn and unfastening the cuffs. “I believe I see improvement already.” 

“Thank you, sir.” She began to tremble as his fingers skated up her bare stomach, following the open line of her shirt up to her tie and so he could pull the knot loose. It made a whispering sound as he slid it free of her collar, and she couldn’t believe how such a small thing could turn her on so much. He gently removed her shirt and tossed it onto the table she'd been sitting at earlier.

“Next word, Jagrafess.” His voice came from somewhere below her and Rose realized he must have knelt down behind her as he began to kiss his way up her left calf. She closed her eyes when he licked the back of her knee, gently nudging her legs apart and continuing up her inner thigh. His palms were sliding along the outside of her legs at the same time and he grasped her knickers in both hands and then halted, waiting for her to begin.

“Jagrafess, J-A-G…” Rose swallowed hard as he slowly dragged her knickers down her legs and held each foot steady so she could step out of them. “…R-A-F-E-S-S, Jagrafess.”

“There you go, see what happens when you focus? I’m quite impressed.” He fell silent for a moment and then strolled around her in a small circle. “You know, before we go any further,” he said, opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a ruler, “I think we should measure that skirt. As I stated before, it can hardly be regulation length. Just look at the expanse of skin above you knee.” He traced his fingers over the exposed skin just under the hem of her kilt. “Really, Miss Tyler, you ought to know better. What if the trustees were made aware of your behavior? It could call into question my effectiveness as an administrator.”

Rose hung her head, although it was more to hide her smile than out of shame. He was so _good_ at this. “Yes sir, I’m so sorry, Sir.”

“You should be,” he said and dropped to the ground in front of her so he could meticulously measure the skirt in question. “Just as I suspected, it’s a full two inches above what is required in the school handbook. I fear there is nothing to be done but remove it. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Sir.” He could cut the skirt into ribbons for all she cared as long as he got it off her body, and the sooner the better.

He carefully unclipped the pin and dropped it to the floor, then went to work on the double button closure. The kilt slid off her hips and pooled around her feet on the platform, leaving her dressed in just shoes, socks, and bra. The Doctor surveyed her thoughtfully. “This too, I think,” and reached around to release the clasp. It fell on top of the skirt with a quiet swish. “Ah, _much_ better. Now…where were we? Oh yes, you need your next word. Let’s see…how about…Isolus.”

Rose hadn’t even begun the word when he took one of her hands and sucked her index finger into his mouth. He released it, and then did the same thing with the next one. Then he guided them down to the join between her legs. “You know, I’m wondering if I’ve made this too easy on you, Miss Tyler. It’s important to be able to perform despite outside distractions. Let’s just see how you manage, shall we?”

She stood there, frozen, word long forgotten. Distractions indeed. 

“Come now, Miss Tyler, I’m sure you know what you’re about,” he murmured in her ear. Rose’s eyes flickered shut and she began to move her hand. “Is this what you get up to late at night? Naughty, naughty, girl. Tell me, who is it you think of when you do this? Some idiot boy? Or…is it me?”

She replied in a small voice, “You.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? You’ll have to speak up, Miss Tyler.”

With a bit of defiance, Rose answered, “You, Sir. I think of you.” 

“And, just what am I doing when you think of me? Hm? Do you wish those were my fingers touching you?” He reached over and stroked her, just above where her own fingers were. Rose shuddered. 

“Yes.”

“What else? My mouth? Do you imagine me licking you? Like...this?” His tongue rasped around her fingers and she fought to remain standing.

“God! Yes.”

“Yes, what? I’ve earned my title, you know. I like to hear it.” His tongue laved against her again.

“Yes, Professor Smith.”

“There, that wasn’t so difficult. Now, I believe you had a word to spell?”

Right, the word. What was it again? Isolus! That was it. “Isolus, I-S-O… Oh!” 

He immediately stopped. “I’m sorry, that’s incorrect. There is only one O in Isolus.”

“No!” Rose frantically scrambled to explain. “That is…I didn’t mean…”

“Miss Tyler, are you _contradicting_ me?” he asked severely.

“No, Sir. I’m not.”

“I didn’t think so. Now you know the rules. I think this time, hm... Yes, we’d better use my chair.” He walked over, sat down, and then patted his lap.

Rose stared. Did he actually plan to turn her over his knee?

“Now, Miss Tyler, if you please.”

There was her answer. Rose stepped off the plinth and over to where he was sitting. He helped her settle across his knees, and ran his hand lightly up and down her back.

“I think three this time. Two may have been insufficient, as you are still making mistakes.”

At the first smack, Rose felt heat flash through her and she turned over her shoulder to watch his face. The Doctor was a study in concentration, eyes dark, chest heaving a little. The knuckles of his free hand were clenched tight on the arm of the chair. Rose wondered if she wasn’t the only one getting off on this, he appeared to be completely affected. She squirmed a bit to get more comfortable on his lap and he hissed in through his teeth. She could feel his cock pressing into her stomach through his clothing. His hand came down again, harder this time and Rose let out a little eager cry of excitement. He spanked her a third time, then slipped his hand down to caress between her legs where she had grown almost embarrassingly wet.

Punishment completed, the Doctor carefully assisted her in getting back to her feet and plucked her tie from where he had it concealed in one of his pockets. “See that? All you needed was a little positive reinforcement, and a bit of discipline. Although…certainly, your vocabulary skills have improved, but I’m not convinced your conduct has. I think perhaps what you are lacking is a little…restraint.”

He slid her tie through his fingers suggestively and Rose felt her chest hitch. Oh God. Yes, absolutely. Restraint sounded _exactly_ like what she needed. 

Rose noticed with satisfaction that she’d been right. One look at his hooded, lust-filled gaze was enough to tell her that the Doctor was seriously into this. Maybe more than she was, if that were even possible. She considered how much longer he’d be able to maintain the charade before his control broke completely. He was still just sitting there, not making a single move towards her. Rose decided to give him a little push. “Didn’t you mention something about restraint, Sir? I could have sworn you did,” she asked boldly.

His head snapped up. “Speaking out of turn, Miss Tyler?”

“You’re the one who said I had a behavior problem, _Professor Smith_. I s’pose I’m just proving you right.”

“Rose,” he said in warning.

“S’this the part where you say I’m playing with fire?” she taunted, turning the tables on him. “M’not worried. Go ahead. Burn me. I want you to.”

It happened so fast Rose didn’t even have time to blink. One moment she was standing there, goading him, and the next she was pinned down on his desk with the Doctor on top of her. He caught her wrists in his hands and pulled them up over her head. Once he had them in position, he used her tie to fasten them to a ring she hadn’t even noticed on the far side of his desk. Then he took his thumb and grazed over her lips with it.

“Oh Rose…this…I had no idea. I _love_ this,” he admitted, “you, putting yourself at my mercy. It’s…I can’t… I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you. You did say forever?”

While she expected him to break, she hadn’t thought it would be like this. “Yeah,” she assured him, voice cracking slightly. “M’not going anywhere. I’m right here, with you. Forever.”

The Doctor nodded slowly, eyes still locked on hers, and began stripping off his clothes in easy, deliberate movements. When he finished, he stepped back over to the desk and inclined his head to bring his lips to hers, languorously exploring her mouth with his tongue as his fingers traveled down her body to find her slick and wanting. He stroked her indolently, circling her clit and drifting down to dip inside before returning to tease her again. Rose arched beneath his touch, baring her throat to him as he nipped and kissed his way down to her breasts. 

He swirled his tongue around each nipple before continuing his downward path across her skin. By the time the Doctor reached her hips, she was undulating restlessly below him -- desperate for him to do more. He bit her hip, and swiped over the mark with his tongue as he used both hands to part her legs. 

Rose only had a moment to mourn the loss of his fingers before he was on the desk in one graceful motion. She could feel him nudging her entrance and she lifted her hips, trying to get him where she wanted him. He refused to comply, using one hand to rub himself along her folds as he held himself steady above her with the other.

“I never said the lesson was over, Rose.”

“Please,” she said as the head of his cock brushed over her clit.

He just smirked and shook his head. “No. Not until you tell me what you want.”

“Want you.”

“Want me where? Say it, Rose, where do you want me?”

She lifted once more, desperately trying to get some relief. “Inside me, please!”

“Mmm, yes,” he said, angling himself so could enter her in one swift stroke, “I think so.”

And then he was moving. He pulled both her legs up and around his hips for deeper penetration and leaned in to occupy her mouth. She moaned as he began thrusting harder and he gripped the edges of desk for more leverage. Rose couldn’t remember anything ever feeling this good, the delicious friction from their flush bodies kept building and building as she pulled and strained against the tie holding her wrists fast to the desk. 

“So close,” he said into her mouth. “You? I want you to come with me. Tell me, Rose. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me…God! Just touch me,” she begged and he concentrated all his weight on the wooden desktop so he could get his fingers between them, fiercely rubbing, pushing her straight over the cliff and following her down. She felt him pulsing, the shock of coolness inside her, and his set rhythm faltering as his body lost control. His eyes were locked on hers the whole time, and she watched them cloud as he came undone. He slowed to a stop, and gently untied the bonds around her wrists before lowering himself on top of her and burying his head in the curve of her neck.

Rose wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss on the top of his head. “I thought you were gonna bend me over the desk.”

“Next time,” he said lazily, capturing her earlobe in his teeth.

“You say that, but I think it’s all talk.” She ran her fingernails down his back and over the curve of his bum.

“Keep that up, and next time is going to be sooner than you think.”

She giggled. “S’that supposed to be a threat?”

“Something like that. But I think, if you don’t mind, what I’d really like is to go to bed,” he said and gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

Rose looked at him in shock. “ _You’re_ tired? That’s a first.”

“Well, I did get _arrested_ , spend the morning in jail being tormented by a voyeuristic llama, have to fend off the amorous advances of a certain pink and yellow girl, and then planned an elaborate seduction involving adding a new room to the TARDIS, talking holograms, and costumes. So, yes, I’m actually tired.”

“That llama really was awful,” she conceded. “I can’t believe he tricked me.”

“Oh! That reminds me, I got you a present.” He stretched over the side of the desk, and Rose heard a drawer open and shut before something heavy and dark landed on top of her head.

“You didn’t,” she said from underneath the Stetson.

“I did.”

She cocked the Stetson on her head and grinned up at him from under the brim. “I love you.”

“Who doesn’t?” he replied, and winked at her.

“Probably the llama.”

“I can live with that,” he said, and took her hand to lead her off to bed.  
>


	4. Epilogue

The Doctor and Rose did eventually make it to San Francisco. They spent the day sightseeing and riding the cable cars up and down the rolling hills, Rose leaning out whooping happily on the descents as he held on tightly around her waist. She wore the Stetson, and kept her hand clapped firmly down it to keep it from blowing away.

In the evening, they went to see the parrots on Telegraph Hill, the Doctor told her some convoluted story about how they were really Parakeecians from the planet Budgiemax 10. Rose pretty much told him he was full of it. She’s still not sure if he was lying or not. 

They stopped in at Pinkberry and after fifteen minutes of watching the Doctor lick the fruity cereal o’s off his frozen yogurt, Rose dragged him and his dessert back to the TARDIS. Clothes were already coming off a block away and they ended up shagging against the doors, while one of San Francisco’s finest pounded his fist, and threatened them with arrest, on the other side. 

Imagine his astonishment when the police box disappeared right in front of his eyes with its usual grinding vworps. He’s since retired and taken to painting watercolors on the rocky shores of Portland, Oregon. They’re selling rather well, so all in all, it worked out for the best.

The next day Rose asked to see the San Diego Zoo. They spent the day wandering around the animal enclosures hand in hand. Rose popped into one of the shops and came out with a tiny pink panda on a keychain for him. The Doctor immediately put his TARDIS key on it, and stuffed it into one of his coat pockets so he could use both hands to hold her face while he snogged her senseless. 

After that he used the psychic paper to rent them a convertible and they drove up the coast. Three times they almost went over the cliffs into the Pacific because he kept forgetting which side of the road was his. He blamed Rose for this, saying it was her fault for wearing a dress, because how could he possibly be expected to concentrate when her knees were right there, all uncovered and begging to be looked at and touched. She just stuck her tongue out and pulled her dress up another inch. Well…two inches. Ok, fine, three.

It wasn’t much later that they passed the rolling fields of a large ranch where wandering aimlessly through the grass were a herd of about twenty llamas. Rose found herself starting to think very inappropriate thoughts of the schoolroom variety. Her cheeks went pink and when she turned to look at the Doctor she found him staring at her, pupils blown wide and endlessly black. 

He pulled into the nearest bed and breakfast with a screech of tires, and proprietor assumed they must have eloped and been on their honeymoon as she checked them in. She’d never seen two people so lost in each other. Out of courtesy to the other guests, she gave them a single cottage on the far side of the property. She felt instinctively things might get…loud. She was right.

It was a very good thing that the cottage door didn’t face the main house, because it bounced back open when the Doctor slammed it closed, and neither of them noticed. What happened next was something he forever after referred to as the Random Llama Mini-Break of Intensely Excellent Intercourse. Rose simply called it Possibly Our Best Shag Ever. 

Breathless and spent, they cuddled in the four-poster bed discussing where they should go in the morning. Much to his chagrin, Rose wanted to visit Jackie and give her a little bazoolium weather divinator she’d picked up for her a few weeks earlier. He reluctantly agreed, thinking it would be a short stop and then they’d finally take that long promised trip to Barcelona. 

The Doctor spent a long time that night watching Rose sleep and trying to push back a terrible feeling which kept creeping up on him that their time was becoming terrifyingly limited. At around 3:00 AM he woke her up just to make love to her again. Even slightly dazed with sleep, Rose noticed that there was something in the way he touched her that felt like desperation and tasted like goodbye. She did her best to assure him with body, and mouth, and words that saying forever meant just that. He did his best to believe her.

They did go to the Powell Estate the next day, and that night in California became the last night together for a very long time. Not for all time though, because as Rose Tyler could tell you, impossible is an awful lot like Weetabix. If you have enough stamina, persistence, and willpower, you can eat it for breakfast.


End file.
